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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22495804">Cinder and Ash</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuspexOfIlia/pseuds/AuspexOfIlia'>AuspexOfIlia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fables of Fodlan [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cinderella AU, F/M, Fairy Godmother!Mercedes, Mice and birds are cute, Partially beta'd we almost die like glenn, Takes place in the same universe as One Solstice Night</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 16:35:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,271</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22495804</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuspexOfIlia/pseuds/AuspexOfIlia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Annette has been slaving away for Cornelia Arnim and her two apprentices for years. Brought to their manor under the false pretenses she'd be learning magic from them, she found herself cooking and cleaning with no end. Despite the circumstances, she does her best to stay positive and have hope. After all, it's what her mother would have wanted.</p>
<p>A FE3H Retelling of Cinderella centered around Annette/Ashe.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Annette Fantine Dominic/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert, Mercedes von Martritz/Dedue Molinaro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fables of Fodlan [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1568947</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Cindernette</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The second fairy tale fic is here! Cinderella was a favorite of mine as a kid, so this one is gonna be fun to write. Once "Fairy Godmother Mercedes" popped in my head, I knew I had to do it. I mean, it fits way too well! Ashe and Annette are also a favorite pair of mine. I'm surprised its a rarepair-- I mean, their A+ support is one of the purest things in the game.<br/>If you wanna read another FE Cinderella fic, I'd recommend AcquaSole's A Single Pale Flower. It's centered around Nino and was part of the inspiration for this. Reading it made me look back at the Black Fang and realize how well done they were. And, well, just FE7 as a whole.<br/>Speaking of FE7, I do have an Eliwood/Ninian fic in the works, as well as Sigurd/Deirdre and Corrin/Silas. If you want, you can try to guess the tales I chose for them. I might also do Alm/Celica and Joshua/Natasha, and maybe one more to round the Non-3H ones out to 7 (cause, y'know, 7 dwarves... it's a metajoke). We'll see what happens.<br/>Warning for mentions of animal experimentation in this chapter. Cornelia is not a nice lady to mice.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A bluebird perched atop the window overlooking the manor’s kitchen. Inside was a petite, redheaded girl who slept in front of a dying fire. The bird fluttered up and flew through a crack between the roof and wall and settled in front of the girl and sang a lively morning song.</p>
<p>The girl, Annette, rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Oh, hello there. Is it already morning?” </p>
<p>The bird chirped and nodded its head. </p>
<p>“Darn. I had a wonderful dream.” She stood up and gathered her blanket. “I was dancing with a prince. Can you believe it? Me and a prince.”</p>
<p>She sighed and opened the window shutters, letting dawn's pinkish hue fill the room. The bird flew over and perched on the sill. More birds joined it, and a group of mice emerged from their nest in the wall.</p>
<p>“It was amazing. He was so kind and gentle, and a great dancer too!” She took a hairbrush and tied her hair back into two looped pigtails. “I know what you’re thinking. It wasn’t Dimitri. I don’t think it was even in Faerghus at all.” She reached into one of the cabinets to find one of the few things she owned-- a second change of clothes. “But even then, Dimitri isn’t here anymore.”</p>
<p>Crown Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. No one had seen him since the Tragedy of Duscur. Most assumed him dead like his father, but rumors of his survival spread through the kingdom. The surviving knights organized search parties in order to find him, and Annette’s own father joined the cause.</p>
<p>He never came back.</p>
<p>Annette looked up at the clock on the wall. Thirty minutes until breakfast. If she didn’t have the tea ready, Lady Cornelia was going to have her head. As she tied her apron around her waist, the bird flew back to the window and continued its song. Annette joined in, free from the ridicule Bias and Pittacus would give her for singing along. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Oh, working hard in the morning sun!  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Singing along is so-so much fun! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> A little bit of magic here, a little bit of magic there, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> A little bit of cleaning and the smell of food in the air! </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>One small spell and the hearth came back to life. Annette grabbed a kettle and hoisted it over to the pump. She filled it with water and hooked it over the fire. Next up were the sweet rolls, made from dough she’d prepared the night before. Then, she sat herself in front of the oven and watched the rolls rise. She wasn’t going to burn them this time. Not after what Cornelia did to her.</p>
<p>Good thing Cornelia didn’t know about Annette’s animal friends.</p>
<p>Steam poured out of the kettle’s spout. Annette took it out of the hearth and poured the water into three smaller teapots. She put a different type of tea in each-- Albinean Berry for Bias, Sweet Apple for Pittacus, and Rose Petal for Cornelia. Each tea set had a different color. That way she wouldn’t mix up their orders. Once the rolls were ready, she glazed them in honey and placed three on each plate. The tea tray was heavy, but after years of the same routine she’d gotten used to the weight.  </p>
<p>She took a deep breath and balanced the tray on her hip. “Alright. You can do this.” </p>
<p>One of the mice clawed at Annette’s shoe. It squeaked at her when she met its little eyes.</p>
<p>“Do you want to come too?” She asked. “I could use the moral support.” Placing the tea tray back on the table, she scooped the mouse up. It snuggled into her apron pocket with a satisfied squeak. </p>
<p>“Alright. Just don’t let them see you,” she said. “I don’t want them to take you away and...”</p>
<p>No. This wasn’t the time to think about all the terrible things she’d seen. This was the time to put on a smile and be brave.</p>
<p>And so, she stepped into the hall.</p>
<hr/>
<p>First up was Pittacus and Bias, Cornelia’s apprentices. They shared the bedroom Annette once thought would be hers. The two of them laid in their beds as if they were ill. Their unnaturally pale skin might lead someone to think that was the case, but Annette knew better. </p>
<p>"You're late!" screeched Bias. "We've been waiting for five minutes!"</p>
<p>"The tea is probably cold by now," said Pittacus. "You got caught in a daydream again, didn't you? Or did you steal another one of our books?"</p>
<p>Annette didn't say a word. It wasn't worth getting in an argument with those two. She handed them each their plates while they laid in bed. Pittacus scowled when she put her hand on the still-warm teacup. No tattling on Annette today-- that is, if she didn’t make something up. </p>
<p>“The laundry is over there. Get it back by this afternoon.” Bias pointed to a dark corner of the room. There sat an overflowing basket of clothes, much too big for Annette to handle in one day.</p>
<p>“My hands are full right now. I’ll come get it once--”</p>
<p>“Well?” Bias slammed her teacup down on her saucer. “Did I stutter?”</p>
<p>Annette bit her lip and glanced away, frozen in place. “No, miss.”</p>
<p>“That’s what I thought.”</p>
<p>Annette took the tray in one hand and balanced the laundry on her hip. She swore she heard Bias and Pittacus whispering and laughing at her as she left. It was hard to tell who was who, but it didn’t matter-- the poison in their words stung all the same.</p>
<p>“Can you believe she thought she was going to be learning under Lady Cornelia?” </p>
<p>“She only ever said she’d take the poor girl in, not teach her magic! Only a fool would have fallen for that!”</p>
<p>“That little brat should just be glad she didn’t end up like the rest of the crested children we found.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Cornelia Arnim, former servant to the King of Faerghus, laid in bed stroking her pet cat Narcissus. The curtains in her bedroom were drawn shut, cloaking her in darkness. Some called her a witch. They weren’t entirely wrong-- she brewed potions and cast spells, yes, but she was nowhere near as ugly as the old hags from those silly fairy tales. No, she prided herself on her beauty. She was a gem compared to all, as fair as moonlight and hair like silk.</p>
<p>She’d killed for these looks, and no one would ever know. That is, anyone who wasn’t an Agarthan like Bias and Pittacus.</p>
<p>A knock came from the other side of the door. “Come in,” Cornelia said. </p>
<p>The door creaked open. In came Annette, holding a tea tray in one hand and a laundry basket in another.</p>
<p>“Close the door behind you, dear.” Cornelia lifted her chin up. </p>
<p>“Yes, milady.” Annette did as she was asked, then walked over to Cornelia’s bedside. She sat the tray down on the bedside table. Steam rose into the air as sweet-smelling tea poured out from the teapot’s spout. As much as Cornelia hated to admit it, the girl made significant progress in the time she’d been at the manor. In the first month alone, she’d broken five teacups and one teapot on her way up the stairs.</p>
<p>Narcissus jumped out of Cornelia’s lap and started to sniff Annette’s apron pocket. Annette stepped back, her hands starting to shake.</p>
<p>“Annette, what do you have in your pocket?” Cornelia extended her hand towards the girl, crooking her index finger. </p>
<p>Annette averted her eyes. She then turned and paced back to the door. Seeing what the girl was attempting, Cornelia waved her hand to expend a small spell. The door locked with such an intense click Annette jumped. “Don’t try to avoid the question. What’s in your pocket?”</p>
<p>Before Annette could say any more, Narcissus leapt off the bed. He dashed over to Annette, jumped on a nearby chair, and yanked the pocket open with his paw. </p>
<p>Nothing.</p>
<p>Narcissus retreated. He curled back up on his owner’s lap, disappointed. Cornelia scratched him behind the ears. “What a pity. I thought you’d brought me a new <em> test subject </em>.”</p>
<p>Annette’s face scrunched up at the phrase. She never was good at hiding her emotions. It made Cornelia want to laugh. “Oh come now. You know sacrifices must be made to advance our knowledge.” </p>
<p>After all, with knowledge came experiments, with experiments came with failures, and failures came with the occasional unfortunate death. Such was the nature of science. But, without science, what progress could be made? The world would soon be out of the dark ages with her efforts. Free of disease and poverty for those who deserved it. Maybe even machines to do chores-- though it was fun to make surface dwellers do your every whim.</p>
<p>“My laundry is over there. Don’t worry, it’s not nearly as much as Bias and Pittacus gave you.” She gestured to a chair with dresses and undergarments draped over it. “I don’t know how they go through so much in one day. It must be so much hard work for you.”</p>
<p>Annette made her way to the chair and grabbed the clothes, then made her way back to the door. She placed the dirty clothes on top of the previous pile. Cornelia took a sip of her tea. “Now, you are dismissed. Make sure you complete all your chores by sundown. I expect dinner by then.”</p>
<p>Annette attempted a curtsy. “Yes, milady.”</p>
<p>“And remember.”</p>
<p>Annette turned her head back to Cornelia. “Yes?”</p>
<p>“Do make sure to check the rat traps.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>The rest of the day was a blur. Annette dropped the laundry off in the kitchen (along with the mouse hidden in the vast pile of clothes), helped Bias and Pittacus choose their outfits for the day, then tended to the garden and the few animals around the property. She prepared lunch for the ladies of the house: Daphnel Stew with a side of radish salad and bread. Once they were done, she ate the leftovers and cleaned up the dining room and kitchen. While the sun dried in the afternoon sun, she cleaned the manor until it was time to cook dinner.</p>
<p>Now, the sun long gone, she sat by the fire and mended the torn clothes she’d gotten earlier. Bias and Pittacus would be mad she didn’t get them done as soon as they’d wanted, but it was either that or them complaining about dust making them sneeze. They had plenty of clothes to wear, so Annette figured that allergies were the more important issue. </p>
<p>In truth, the only reason Annette had any idea what she was doing was because of a book. She’d found it in the cupboard shortly after she moved in. The book contained everything she needed to know about domestic life-- what crops grew when, how to cook easy and simple yet tasty meals, tips for patching up tears in fabric, etc. Written on the inside by the authors was a note:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Inside is all the info you’ll need for running a house. Make sure to be careful and pay close attention to what you do so you don’t make mistakes. Even if you do, failure is a normal part of making progress. You just have to keep trying, and eventually you’ll master whatever you put your mind to. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> And, above all, remember: </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Even if it feels like the world is up against you, there is always someone out there willing to help.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> You are not alone. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> D.M. and M.M. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cornelia never mentioned any previous servants, so the identities of the authors was a mystery. Whoever they were, Annette was grateful. The book helped her out of quite a few sticky situations in the past. Once she’d overheard Cornelia talking to a strange man about getting rid of her altogether if she didn’t shape up. He’d take her to Hyrm, and from there… well, she didn’t quite understand what they were talking about after that, but it didn’t sound good. </p>
<p>What had Cornelia called the man? Thales? Something about him didn’t seem right to Annette. His glare was that of a serpent, cruel and cunning. His words were like honeyed poison when he spoke to her. Annette wasn’t dumb-- she knew he had some malicious intent with her. It didn’t help that Cornelia seemed to follow his every will. If her blackened heart was willing to listen to him, his must be even more corrupt.</p>
<p>Annette sighed as she laid down in front of the fireplace. She plumped up her pillow and curled up in her blanket. It wasn’t thick enough to keep out the cold Faerghus air. Even in October the temperature could go below freezing at night. She’d had to put down an old rug where she slept to keep out the chill. It didn’t help much with the overall feel of sleeping on literal rocks, though. </p>
<p>She thought back to her childhood, when she had her own bedroom and plenty of toys, some of which her father made. Her mother showed her spells and promised she’d teach them to her someday. The three of them would go out to church together, then to the marketplace. They’d buy her a sweet of some sort and look at the lights that decorated the city in the winter. She thought it would last forever, but Father’s duty as a knight came first.</p>
<p>Then her mother got ill. The doctor said it was heartbreak. Cornelia promised she’d take Annette in as she stood by the dying woman. Knowing her daughter would have a safe place to stay eased her pain as she passed. Tears formed at the corner of Annette’s eyes. Oh goddess, how they’d been fooled.</p>
<p>She thought back to the book she’d found. Were the authors right about her not being alone? If she told anyone, Cornelia would experiment on her or whoever she told. None of the visitors who ever came to the manor seemed to care that she was being abused. In fact, they seemed to approve of it.</p>
<p>But… that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone out there who would help. Annette knew there were good-hearted people out there, outnumbering the bad ones by the thousands. Someone would come along and help Annette get out of her situation. Maybe the couple who wrote the book would come back to check on the manor, then whisk her away once they saw how atrocious Cornelia, Bias, and Pittacus were.</p>
<p>There was hope. She just had to have courage.</p>
<p>As she closed her eyes, Annette started to hum a lullaby. It was her mother’s favorite, the one she sang whenever Annette was sad or had a nightmare. Soon, she found herself singing along as she drifted to sleep.</p>
<p>
  <em> A dream is a wish your heart makes, </em>
</p>
<p><em> When you’re fast asleep. </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> In dreams you will lose your heartaches, </em></p>
<p>
  <em> Whatever you wish for you keep. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Have faith in your dreams and someday, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> You rainbow will come smiling through. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> No matter how your heart is grieving,  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> If you just keep believing, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> That dream that you wish will come true. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Invitation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The household receives a letter from Lord Gaspard, inviting them to his son's birthday party. Annette, hopeful that she can attend, spends the entire week daydreaming about it-- but Cornelia has other plans.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So much for consistent updates! Well, now that everyone's locked down, I have online school for the rest of the year (my state is only on a warning, though). This also means I have time to write more... that is, if I can separate myself from Animal Crossing. It's so good!</p><p>Shout out to Jester for helping me with this chapter, as well as the revisions on the first chapter. I appreciate it so much! :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Breakfast, laundry, housekeeping. She freed another mouse from a mousetrap, almost burned the hotcakes, and most importantly, received the letter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right before Annette finished scrubbing the parlor floor, she heard a knock on the front door. The mice listening to Annette’s working song scurried away. The redhead put her bucket and rag aside and walked to the large wooden doors. Upon opening one side, Annette saw a soldier clad in fine iron armor. She recognized him as one of the town gatekeepers-- the one with great enthusiasm for even the smallest things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Greetings, milady,” he said, his signature smile on his face. “Nothing to report! Oh, uh, except this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held out a rectangular piece of parchment. Stamped on was a blue wax seal with an odd looking design etched into it. Before Annette could grab it, she found herself face flat on the very floor she’d just been cleaning. She lifted her head up to see a grinning Bias snatch the letter from the soldier’s hand. “Ooh, what’s this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me see!” Pittacus came rushing over, pinning Annette’s grey-blue dress down with one of her high heels. She then looked at the soldier and started to flick her too-pale hand at him as if he was a mere child. “Go on, shoo, your job here is done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The messenger gulped. “Good day, then.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cornelia waltzed down the staircase, her pristine pointed nails resting upon the ebony railing. Her maroon velvet dress swayed as she descended, showing a bit too much cleavage for Annette’s taste. She wore the finest eyeshadow and lipstick despite not needing to leave the house. Overall, she looked like the evil queen from Annette’s old storybook. Prim and proper, vain and cruel. “Pittacus, watch your step. How is the little cinder wench supposed to clean if you’re restraining her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annette held in a frown. She looked down at her reflection in the polished tile.  The white cloth around her head was stained with grime. Her brown corset frayed at the ends, barely holding itself together. Her face was dusted with ash, no doubt from sleeping near the fire for so long. She was a stark contrast to the elegant decor of the parlor-- but unlike Cornelia, she had a heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pittacus ground her heel further into Annette’s dress. “My bad. I just assumed the floor would be clean from any blemishes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cornelia plucked the letter out of Bias’ hand. Upon inspecting it,her face fell. “Hmm. Not from Arundel, but rather Lord Gaspard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if Thales-- ouch!” Pittacus flinched as Bias elbowed her in the side. “I, uh, mean, Arundel-- If Arundel needs to contact us, he’ll send a… different messenger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, right…” Cornelia bit her lip. “We may as well see what Lonato wants with us, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cornelia ripped the envelope open and tossed it aside. It glided down to the floor, allowing Annette to pick it up and inspect it for herself. The handwriting was smooth and precise. Lord Lonato must have paid a fortune to have this written-- that is, if he hadn’t done it himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To the people of Gaspard territory… oh, how generic of an opening. I could write more eloquently than this,” Cornelia scoffed. “Let’s see… it seems we’ve been invited to a ball.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bias and Pittacus jumped for joy. “A ball?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, a ball to celebrate the 21st birthday of Lord Gaspard’s son.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought Cristophe was executed years ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lonato adopted some orphans prior to that,” Cornelia said. “Can you believe it? A man of his status taking in lowly street rats.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pittacus and Bias rolled their eyes. Annette thought she might have even heard one of them gag. No compassion for the needy. She’d never seen the two of them interact with anyone other than nobles invited over for parties, but she figured they didn’t care for the poor. The only evidence she needed was how they acted to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyways, it says the entire territory is invited, regardless of class. The man must have taken a liking to common filth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence. This was Annette’s chance. “Mistress Cornelia, I’m sorry to intrude, but I have a question.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, uh… if everyone is invited, and you three plan to go, that surely means I can go as well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three stared at Annette for a good few seconds before Bias and Pittacus burst into laughter. “You? Come with us? Are you serious?” They gasped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cornelia, however, didn’t find it so funny. She scowled at Annette, veins pulsing in her neck. “What makes you think we’d bring along a wretched scullery maid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annette gulped. “The invitation was for the entire territory, regardless of class! That means I was invited!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, please. No self-respecting noble wants dirty peasants around,” Cornelia said. “Much less ones who keep rats as their friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cornelia wrinkled her nose. It occurred to Annette that she wasn’t talking about Lord Gaspard’s dignity. No, Cornelia was talking about her own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve worked so hard for the past few years. All I ask for is one night off.” The maid clasped her hands together and bent her knees. She stared up at Cornelia with big, pleading eyes. “Please let me go! I have an old dress I can wear, so you don’t have to worry about that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cornelia put a hand on her chin. “Well, if you insist…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annette broke out into a grin. Did she really have a chance? After all these years, would she finally get a reward? The thought made her want to dance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The ball is in one week. If you do all your chores like a good girl, then maybe we shall bring you with us.” Cornelia said. She motioned to Bias and Pittacus to follow her into the hall. “As for a start… Maybe you could make us some treats to celebrate?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Peach pie!” Said Pittacus, following her teacher along into the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, blueberry tarts!” Bias picked up her skirt and ran to catch up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not custard? You both can get your choice of fruit, as long as you don’t mind a little bit of a…” Cornelia paused to think, then glanced over her shoulder to Annette. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Burnt</span>
  </em>
  <span> taste.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three mages walked off. Once they were gone, Annette jumped, pumping her fists in the air. She then landed on the rag she’d placed aside earlier, slipped, and fell onto her bottom. The mice scurried back to see if she was ok. She started to giggle, then scratched one of them on the head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m ok!” She said. “Just excited.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Cornelia doubled Annette’s chores over the next week, but she didn’t care. She smiled and hummed through them all.  Her thoughts danced with images of ballgowns, music, and sweets. She didn’t care that she’d have to scrub chamber pots or clean mysterious potion stains out of clothes. It was worth the opportunity for a night off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the day finally arrived, Annette leapt into action. She flew across the floor like an ice skater as she prepared a simple meal of berry porridge. A dash of honey, a handful of berries, and a pinch of cinnamon went into the pot, filling the air with an aroma as pleasant as Annette herself. After setting some of the sweet treat aside for herself, Annette scooped the rest into fine china bowls.  Her hands shook with excitement as she poured the tea, creating a bit of spillage. Hopefully the mistresses wouldn’t mind that she cleaned it up with one of their napkins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Annette arrived at Bias and Pittacus’ room, she saw the two of them rummaging through two large trunks. Dresses, petticoats, and all the like were strewn across the floor, creating a sea of fluffy fabric. Once Annette called out to Bias and Pittacus, the two mages stopped flinging clothes around and peeked over their shoulders. They scrambled over to grab their morning tea, almost knocking Annette over in the process. The way they slurped their porridge down resembled that of an animal. It was a stark difference to how proper they acted when others were around.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cornelia sat in an armchair in the corner. Her chin rested on her hand as she watched the chaos unfold. “Well, you seem chipper today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, sorry! I’m just excited for tonight!” Annette said. “It’s so nice of you to let me come to the ball with you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you can do all your chores on time,” Cornelia smirked. Bias and Pittacus giggled, prompting Cornelia to stare daggers at them. Once they stopped, she stood up from the velvet chair. She then proceeded to lift her skirt up and make her way over to Annette, stepping on the various dresses in her way. Any time she landed on one, Bias and Pittacus took in a sharp breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s not a big deal, girls,” Cornelia said. “Annette can clean them later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annette made an active effort to keep her face from falling. She wouldn’t let herself lose hope. Besides, Bias and Pittacus mentioned to her they’d be skipping lunch today. She could use the extra time to wash their clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cornelia took her breakfast tray out of Annette’s hands. She didn’t thank her. Instead, she turned to her apprentices. “Did you two pick out your dresses?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two mages grinned, their smiles uncanny. Bias held up the ugliest vomit-green dress Annette had ever seen. A tacky floral pattern adorned the bodice. The skirt was formed from a gratuitous amount of ruffles. As if one wasn’t bad enough, Pittacus held up a matching off-yellow dress. The two dresses together reminded Annette of bile and pus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cornelia flinched. It seemed she agreed with Annette for once. “Are you two sure?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yes, we’re sure!” Bias said. She held out one of the sleeves. “It’s made of the finest silk. Everyone will be besides themselves with envy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you insist.” Cornelia turned to leave the room, prompting Annette to open the door for her. Outside, Narcissus meowed. His pouty face signaled that he was not keen on being separated from his owner, much less locked out of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you are, you little rascal. Where have you been?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mrow.” The fluffy white cat walked over to the other side of the hall. That side had no rooms. Instead, a row of large windows filled the wall, torn curtains brushing against the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Torn. Curtains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, that little brat of a cat! They’d left him out there on purpose, hadn’t they?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Narci, why did you do this?” Cornelia said, making no effort to hide her mocking tone. “Now the poor little cinder wench will have to fix these!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annette puffed up her chest. “It’s ok. I can handle it.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Slowly but surely, the sun set and all of Annette’s work ended. She’d fit Bias, Pittacus, and Cornelia into their dresses, cleaned all the dirty clothes and set them out to dry, mended the curtains, and fed every single animal on the grounds. About thirty minutes remained before the carriage would arrive to take her and her mistresses to the ball, yet it felt like hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The redhead opened the cabinet under the countertop and leaned in. Buried beneath a book of fables, a wooden doll, and lots of rags was the party dress she’d brought with her all those years ago. She pressed it to her face. It smelled… interesting, to say the least. The fabric scratched her nose, and it seemed some of the mice nibbled holes in it. The color, once a pale shade of yellow, was now faded to a grey-white. It wasn’t perfect, but it was all she had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was one thing that survived the neglect. Little pink and blue flowers adorned the bodice. Each was stitched with the gentle touch and love of a mother. After her husband’s disappearance, Annette’s mother poured all her passion into creating the perfect birthday gift for her daughter. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>It was the last one she’d ever give her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annette wiped away a tear. She tucked a small cluster of forget-me-nots behind her ear. The tiny blue flowers weren’t her mother’s favorite, but they made just as fair a tribute as any rose or lily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was then Annette heard a knock at the door. She yelled that she was coming, then blew out her candle. Her shoes clicked against the stone as she trotted over to the door. On the other side was Cornelia, the bright light from behind obscuring her body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, Annette. You look adorable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, miss.” Annette picked up her skirt and curtsied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, come along. I’m sure Bias and Pittacus would love to see you like this.” She stepped aside. “Come, step into the light.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annette did as ordered.  The transition from the dark to the light blinded her. Where were--</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something yanked her to one side. The sound of fabric ripping grated against Annette’s ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A violent pull to the left. More snapping threads.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another jerk to the right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sinister laughs echoed around her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right. Left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It went on and on, a seemingly endless cycle of being tossed around like a rag doll. Then it was over. She fell onto the tile face first. Her head spun. Her ears rang. She felt sick to her stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once she regained her balance, she looked down at her dress. What used to be a skirt was now a shoddy torn up mess. Bias and Pittacus held the remains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This was made by your mother?” Bias said, holding up a scrap of faded fabric. “I’ve seen better doormats than this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please…” Tears formed in Annette’s eyes. Her voice grew shaky. “Please, stop…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flowers? How childish.” Pittacus fingered the embroidery. “You should learn to grow up and move on."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annette couldn’t control her tears anymore. She fell to her knees sobbing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a disgrace,” Cornelia spat. “Gullible. Weak. Powerless. You never would have survived the crest experiments.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annette stared up to Cornelia.  “Why? Why did you do this? What did I ever do to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cornelia tilted her chin up and smirked. “You would never understand, my dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. She was right. Annette could never understand how someone could be so cruel to another, force them into slavery, lead them to have hope, and then snatch the rug from underneath them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, if you don’t mind, clean up this mess while we’re gone, will you?” Cornelia said. “I have some business with Lord Gaspard. We’re going to make him an offer he can’t refuse-- imbue his son with a crest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. No, no, no, no, no. They were going to experiment on Gaspard’s adoptive child. She couldn’t let that happen, no, no no no…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she also couldn’t stop them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All she could do was run to the garden and cry.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>The chilly night air made Annette’s tears feel like ice. The hard stone bench she rested her head upon provided no comfort. It was just a reminder of how cold reality was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annette missed her father. She missed his woodcarving, she missed the way he ruffled her hair, she missed the scent of pine as she embraced him. She missed her old home, the small house in Fhiridad with the garden, the jolly townsfolk in the market, the hymns she would sing at church. But, most of all, she missed her mother. Her soothing words, the way she would assure her everything would be ok, her lullabies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She missed her so much, she could almost feel her mother sitting beside her, patting her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she realized someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>sitting next to her and patting her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a young woman, her blonde hair covered by a chocolate colored hat and thin white veil. Her blue eyes pooled with kindness and sympathy. She reminded Annette of an angel. An angel that took care of lonely, desolate children, much like herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello there,” the woman said, with a voice that reminded Annette of sugar and cream. “My name is Mercedes Molinaro, and I am your fairy godmother.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fun Facts:<br/>-When I came up with what would happen to the dress, I felt genuinely evil. I'm sorry. Kinda. But it gets better from here on out, I promise! This is a Cinderella story, not your assigned English class reading!<br/>-I considered having Annette name the mice after the Ashen Wolves, but scrapped that when I realized i might be able to have them cameo in the next fic.<br/>-At first I forgot I even gave Cornelia a cat. That's why he appears so late into that scene.<br/>-This takes place after what would be the timeskip. No one went to school at the monastery, Lonato isn't dead, and I completely forgot Annette has an uncle who could take her in. So that explains all those plot holes.<br/>-Note Mercedes' last name here.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Ball</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mercedes and Dedue help Annette get ready for the ball. Once she's there, she meets someone special.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy birthday Ashe! Well, for about two more hours in my timezone. I didn't expect this to take so long since I already had a bunch of it written, but then I had CompSci homework and then the scene just kept going and turns out I need this work to be four chapters instead of the three I planned out.<br/>10k words. Holy heck. I wrote a bunch of this on my phone too. Gosh, how did I do this before? It's painful... I can't wait until I get my laptop fixed or get a new one.</p><p>This chapter has been brought to you by "no beta we die like Glenn" and thus probably has many dumb typos but it's 10:25 and I'm tired</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Annette sat there. Fairy Godmother? Was this a prank? If so, the timing couldn’t have been worse. One of the mistresses must have paid her to do this. Yet, at the same time, everything about Mercedes seemed genuine. She was like a nice, warm sugar cookie, or vanilla pudding…. Oh goodness, how long had it been since Annette ate?</p><p>“Please don’t cry. Everything will be ok. I promise.” Mercedes said. “Lonato is a good man. He won’t let Cornelia lay a finger on his son.”</p><p>"But… crests are valuable," Annette said. "Any noble would want an heir with one."</p><p>"Not this noble. I promise with all my heart that he will choose the right thing." Mercedes placed her hand under Annette's chin and tilted it up. Her soft blue eyes locked with Annette's. "Now, come on, let's get you ready."</p><p>Annette sat up and wiped her eye. "I don't have anything I can wear or ride in. There's no way I can go. Besides, I have a ton of chores."</p><p>"I'll do your chores," Mercedes said. "I'll even get my husband to help."</p><p>"Husband?"</p><p>"Oh, yes! Hold on just one second." She took out a silver rod from her pocket. Getting up on her tiptoes, she pointed the rod down and gave it a twirl. Small sparkles twinkled in the air. With a poof of magic, a man appeared underneath Mercedes's wand. He had dark skin, a start contrast to his grey-white hair. A frown graced a square jawline. </p><p>Upon seeing Annette, the man bowed. "Dedue Molinaro, at your service. I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance after so many years."</p><p>Mercedes and Dedue Molinaro. Those names matched the initials in the book she'd found so many years ago. It couldn't be… could it?</p><p>"Have you two… been keeping an eye on me?" </p><p>"Oh, right. I forgot to explain! As I said, I'm your fairy godmother. Over the years I've watched you from afar with a little bit of help from my friends." She extended her arm for a group of little bluebirds to perch on. "Aren't they just the cutest?"</p><p>Annette's mouth hung open. They were surveillance birds. That explained why they were so friendly to her. Well, assuming this wasn't all an elaborate prank.</p><p>"You saw me warp in Dedue here, but I'm capable of much more magic than that. For example, when the birds told us you were having a rough time adjusting, we wrote the book and warped it in." </p><p>"Some of those recipes have been passed down by the Molinaro family for generations," Dedue said.</p><p>"Your mother's goulash recipe is the best." Mercedes gave her husband a small peck on the cheek. A slight smile curved at the corner of his lips. "Anyways, we heard about what happened and came to help. You deserve to go to that ball."</p><p>Annette sighed. These two were truly dedicated. "I'd love to continue this, but if I'm going to even attempt to start to get things done, I need to get working. You're welcome to help, but I don't have time for a prank."</p><p>Mercedes gasped. "What? This isn't a prank. I would never do that to someone. Right, Dedue?"</p><p>Dedue nodded, his face back to the scowl.</p><p>"I can prove it to you if you need me to," said Mercedes. "In fact, I have to prove it if we prepare you for the ball."</p><p>Annette pondered her choices. On one hand, she could go scrub chamberpots. On the other hand, she could possibly get a trip to the ball. At the very least, she'd get a bit of a show before she had to go scrub those chamberpots. </p><p>"Alright. I might as well." Annette stood up. "I don't have much to lose."</p><p>Mercedes let out a bit of a squeal. "Excellent! Oh, I am so excited to do this!" </p><p>Annette felt a wave of relief she could not explain. Her mood lifted higher for no apparent reason. This was fate, wasn't it?</p><p>"So, first we need something to make a coach out of.” Mercedes put her finger on her chin. “Do you have anything round we could use?”</p><p>Annette looked around. The moon did not offer much light, but she could make out the fence around the garden. “We can check out some of the plants over there. Some of the vegetables are nice and rounded, though they would be kinda squishy...”</p><p>“Sounds wonderful!” Mercedes clapped her hands together. “It’s nearly harvest season, so that will be in fashion!”</p><p>The three paced over to the garden gate. The soft glow of Mercedes’ wand and Dedue’s lantern lit their footsteps.  Once they arrived, Annette grasped the remains of her skirt and kicked off her slippers, then switched into a pair of boots. She waded through tangles of vines and stalks. Mud splashed all the way up to her legs. “Let’s see… we’ve got peas, squash, berries… You know, we might be able to use a--”</p><p>Before she could finish, something caught under Annette’s boot. She stumbled face first into the mud. From behind her, Mercedes gasped. “Oh, dear. Are you ok?”</p><p>“That’s nothing compared to earlier.” Annette pushed herself up from the squishy, damp ground. To her side was a large gourd, small grooves going up the sides. A wood-like stem extended out from the top, transforming into a thick green tripwire. “I just tripped over a pumpkin vine. No big deal.”</p><p>“A pumpkin?” Dedue asked. “Round yet durable… I think we found our carriage.” </p><p>“Wonderful!” Mercedes clasped her hands together. “Do you need help carrying it, Annie?”<br/><br/>Annette hoisted the pumpkin up and hobbled over to the gate.  Her hands plastered brown gunk on the matte exterior. “I got it!”</p><p>“Alright. Here, let’s put it on the patio.”</p><p>Annette plopped the pumpkin down on the stone, just enough so that it didn’t splatter. Dedue’s gentle yet firm hand gripped her arm. “We’ll need to stand back while Mercedes does her work."</p><p>Mercedes raised her arms and held her wand as if she was a maestro. As she waved her hands, sparks of light emanated from the ground. They swirled around the pumpkin in ribbons of magic. The pumpkin then started to grow, and grow, and grow, until it was roughly the size of the garden shed. Moonlight reflected off the now-pearl white exterior.</p><p>Annette’s mouth fell open. She wanted to praise Mercedes’ efforts, but no words would come out. All she could muster up was an excited squeak. She really did have a fairy godmother.</p><p>“Now, here’s the fun part!” Mercedes waved her wand once more, wisps sparking from the tip. She carved a door in the middle, then traced circles in the air. Four golden wheels materialized, lifting the pumpkin off the ground. Each flick of her wrist adorned the carriage with golden accents. Her wand was a brush and magic her paint. Together they created a masterpiece that glistened right before Annette’s eyes.</p><p>“Voila! A brand new carriage, just for you!” Mercedes said. “Now, we just need some horses…”<br/><br/>“We don’t have any,” said Annette. “Cornelia hired a carriage.”</p><p>“That’s no problem. We have your mice friends!”</p><p>Annette tilted her head. How were mice going to pull a carriage? It would be like someone trying to move a mountain. Then again, Mercedes already made one miracle happen. Who was to say she couldn’t do another?</p><p>“Oh, micey mice! Come here, please!” Mercedes pat her hands on her knees. At the call, four of Annette’s mice companions scurried out from behind a bush. “Aww, there you are! Such good little friends.” </p><p>“Were they helping you too?” Annette asked. </p><p>Dedue nodded once more. “Mercedes insisted on sending as many animals as she could to keep you company. They couldn’t report anything back to us like the birds could, however.”</p><p>Mercedes placed each mouse a good distance from the other. “Don’t move or else you’ll bump into each other while transforming, ok?”</p><p>The mice stayed put. Was it because they were obedient or because they were afraid of what Mercedes said? If Annette was about to be transformed into a horse, she’d be scared as well. Maybe it didn’t hurt as much as it sounded, but Annette’s past experiences with magic and mice weren’t pleasant…</p><p>With one wave of a wand, glittery wisps of magic swirled around the mice. Their legs grew long, like sticks against their chubby little bodies. String-like tails thickened into bunches of white hair. Snouts formed on their small heads. It was a much more awkward transformation than the pumpkin had, but in the end, four majestic steeds stood before Annette.</p><p>“Are they ok?” Annette rushed over to one of the mice-turned-horses. She ran a hand through its mane. Silky and smooth.</p><p>Mercedes conjured up an apple in her palm. The horse nearest to her stumbled over and took a bite. “When I accepted my powers, I made a vow never to use them for harm. They all feel fine. A little discombobulated, but fine.”</p><p>“In all fairness, they just grew to over ten times their normal height. Anyone would need to adjust to that.” Dedue took another apple from Mercedes and fed it to the horse nearest him. “The mice seem to be doing exceptionally well.”</p><p>A giggle escaped Annette’s throat. “You do have a point there.”</p><p>The three let the horses adjust to their new legs before hooking them up to the carriage. Their brilliant white manes fit right in with the pumpkin’s pearly paint and sleek golden box where the driver would sit. </p><p>Oh, a driver! There was no driver!</p><p>“I have the perfect man for the job!” Mercedes clasped her hands once more and glanced at Dedue.</p><p>“Alright. I am not the best with animals, but I shall try,” Dedue said. He grasped the seat and placed one foot on the rail below. Mercedes held out her arm, blocking Dedue from mounting the driver’s seat. </p><p>“Oh, no, I don’t mean you! You’ll be helping me do Annie’s chores.”</p><p>“But if not me, then…” Dedue’s face fell the slight amount it could. “Mercedes, no. I don’t think he’ll be so happy about this.”</p><p>“Nonsense! He loves to see us, and I’m sure he’ll love to see Annie!”</p><p>Dedue sighed and stepped down from the foothold. “If you insist.” </p><p>Mercedes giggled. She stretched her arm up to the sky and pointed her wand to the ground. One flick of her wrist later, a pale man with long, blonde hair stood under the tip of Mercedes’ wand. He wore a uniform of red and white, and in his hand shone a silver blade. Some sort of red stain coated the metal. Annette prayed that it was just some sort of jam. </p><p>“Emile!” Mercedes bear hugged the man and buried her head into his chest. He stumbled back, eyes wide and mouth agape. “I missed you,” Mercedes said. “Tell me where you’re going next time you leave the house.”</p><p>The man, Emile, pat Mercedes on the back, then let go of her embrace. “I was in the middle of something, Mercedes. I hope this is important.”</p><p>“Oh! Yes! I have someone important for you to meet.” Mercedes stepped back and gestured to Annette. “This is my goddaughter!”</p><p>Annette’s eyes met Emile’s. Cold, unfeeling, cruel. Such a similar feeling to Cornelia’s, yet Mercedes trusted him enough to live with him. What on earth was going on?</p><p>“You don’t need to cower like that.” Emile sheathed his sword. “I’m not here to hurt you. Mercedes is my sister.”</p><p>Oh. That explained it.</p><p>“So, if that is it, would you please teleport me back to where I was?” Emile said. “Again, I was in the middle of some important business.”</p><p>“Well, we need you to do us a small favor…” Mercedes winked at Emile. The knight then took a glance around the area and held the pommel of his sword tight.</p><p>“Who do I need to dispose of?”</p><p>Annette waved her hands as fast as she could. “No, no, no! Not that kind of favor!”</p><p>Emile lowered his sword with a frown. “Then what do you need?”</p><p>Dedue coughed into his elbow. “She wants you to be the driver of this coach.” </p><p>Emile furrowed his brow. He looked to his sister with utter confusion on his face. “Mercedes, I cannot drive.”</p><p>“You’ll learn. Besides, the horses know where they’re going! I made sure to give them the directions.”</p><p>“Mercedes--”</p><p>The fairy pleaded at her brother, eyes wide like a kitten's. No one could say no to a face like that. Except Cornelia.</p><p>“If you insist…” He handed Mercedes his sword and climbed up into the box. The horses shifted as he took a hold of the reins.</p><p>“Alright then! You’re all set to go, Annie!” Mercedes took Annette’s hands. A warm smile graced her face. “You are going to have such a good night. I promise!”</p><p>“I wish I could say the same, but…” Annette let go of Mercedes's hand and held up the remains of her skirt. “I’m not sure they’d let me in wearing this.”</p><p>The three others glanced down at the rags in Annette’s hands. Mercedes covered her mouth. “Oh, goodness. I forgot.”</p><p>“How could you forget something like--” </p><p>Dedue shot a glare at Emile before he could finish. Despite being menacing himself, Emile seemed to shiver at the sight of Dedue’s anger. Annette wondered if it worked the other way around as well.</p><p>Mercedes tapped her wand against her hand. “What color dress would you like, Annette? And what material? Fluffy, sleek, or somewhere in between?”</p><p>Annette smiled. "My mother made me this. It used to be a nice, pale yellow. As for the other things, I don’t care that much. I just want it to honor her.”</p><p>A sniff could be heard from the carriage. As soon as all heads turned towards Emile, he looked away, denying his feelings. Mercedes turned back and looked over Annette’s dress. “I think I have an idea, then. Just stay still. You might feel some teensy pricks, kind of like embers, but aside from that, it should be pleasant.”</p><p>A circle of sparkles appeared on the ground around Annette, and a gentle, warm light washed over her. Each spark left a tiny sting against her skin as they swirled up around her body. She felt her waist tighten as a stiff corset formed around it. A shiny yellow hoop skirt replaced torn up rags. Her hair pinched at her scalp as it twisted itself into a plump bun atop her head. Years worth of grime washed off her skin and out of her hair. Then, the magic faded into the night, and so did any trace of Annette’s past.</p><p>Tears formed at Annette’s eyes. There were no words that could ever convey just how grateful and amazed Annette was. She knew her mother smiled down upon her and Mercedes from the heavens.</p><p>“One last thing,” Mercedes said. “Would you lift up your dress for me? Just so I can see your feet?”</p><p>“Uh, sure.” Annette gathered up the petticoat to reveal her scuffed up boots. Despite the mud caked on them, the surrounding underskirt still shone a pure white. </p><p>Mercedes gasped. “Ah, yes. You can’t go in those! Don’t you agree, Dedue?” <br/><br/>“No one will see them under her skirt,” Dedue said. There was some truth to what he said, but what about all the dirt? Would it stain the floor? And what if someone saw them while she danced?</p><p>“Well, even then, it’s still nice to have matching shoes!” Mercedes flicked her wrist once more, and Annette felt her shoes turn from oversized, clammy galoshes to smooth, cool slippers. She peered over the bunched up skirt. Light reflected off of the clear shoes. Every time she moved, they clinked against the ground like a bell.</p><p>“Are… are these made of glass?” Annette tapped her toes against the ground. “What if I break them?”</p><p>“They’re magic! As long as you don’t chuck it against the ground, you should be fine.” Mercedes waved her hand down. “You don’t seem like the type to do that.”</p><p>"I don't know what to say…" Annette said. “I, er, I don’t mean that in a bad way! I just mean that this is really great and--”</p><p>Mercedes put her hand on Annette's shoulder. "It's ok. We know."</p><p>Annette smiled and gave Mercedes a big hug. She then glanced over at Dedue, gesturing for him to join in. </p><p>"I don't want to crush you," he said.</p><p>"Oh, just come on, Dedue," Mercedes said. "You give great hugs."</p><p>He sighed. "If you insist."</p><p>Mercedes was right about Dedue's hugs. She felt snug as a bug in a rug wrapped in his and Mercedes's arms. It was the closest she'd felt to a family hug since her father left. In truth, it was a family hug. A small, newfound family. Not related by blood, but by love.</p><p>Dedue loosened his grip on the two ladies. Mercedes stepped back and pulled a piece of paper out of her skirt pocket. "Your invitation."</p><p>Annette took the paper. Sure enough, it looked just like the one she'd received the week before. The only difference was that instead of being addressed to Cornelia, it was addressed to her.</p><p>"I can't thank you enough," Annette said. "That's probably why I keep repeating myself. I apologise if that's annoying."</p><p>"Not at all," said Mercedes. "Now go get in that carriage!"</p><p>"Right!" Annette dashed to the carriage. Dedue helped her step up and closed the door behind her.</p><p>"Now, there's one last thing," Mercedes said. "The spells all end at midnight, meaning you'll want to be home or at least on your way by then."</p><p>“Midnight?’ Annette poked her head out the window. “Why midnight?”<br/><br/>“It’s a responsible time to come home! After all, you still need a good night’s sleep.”</p><p>Annette chuckled. Mercedes truly put the “mother” in “fairy godmother”, even if she was more of a godsister’s age.</p><p>"Be responsible," said Dedue. "That goes to you as well, Emile."</p><p>Emile scoffed. "I won't murder anyone."</p><p>"Emile." Mercedes stared at her brother with the intensity of a thousand angry mothers.</p><p>"Fine, no mercenary jokes for the night."</p><p>"That's better," Mercedes said. "Now you two better be off or else you'll be late!"</p><p>Emile hit the reins. The horses neighed and winnied, eager to go about their journey. Mercedes and Dedue waved as the carriage took off into the distance.</p><p>"Have fun!" Said Mercedes. "Stay safe!"</p><p>Annette held her arm out as far as she could and waved back. "I promise!"</p><p>And so, she was off.</p><hr/><p>The manor was bigger than the one Annette was used to, but still a minor size compared to the magnificent castle at Fhiridad. Two guards stood on each end of the double doors. </p><p>"Invitation, please," one said. Annette handed him the paper Mercedes conjured up. He took it without hesitation. The other guard pointed down the hall in the direction of the ballroom.</p><p>The sound of idle chatter and an aria faded ever in as she walked down the hall. She met another pair of double doors, dark and foreboding.</p><p>Here she was. One deep breath. In, out. She opened the doors.</p><p>Her jaw dropped.</p><p>The ballroom shone a golden hue from the walls to the curtains. Colorful dresses crowded the floor like flowers in a meadow. Hundreds of prying eyes watched as she stood above them. Could they see the sweat on her brow? What about her shallow breaths? She wasn’t sure if those were from her nerves or the tight corset. </p><p>Mercedes’s voice echoed in her head. She was here to have fun, and there was no need to worry. Clutching her smooth silk skirt, she descended down the stairs and into the crowd. Partygoers whispered as she passed by. A well dressed maiden arriving by herself, and late? How mysterious.  If she didn’t get the attention off of herself, Cornelia, Bias, and Pittacus would surely see her and… well, she wasn't sure what they would do, but it wouldn't be good.</p><p>Despite their questionable choice of dress, Bias and Pittacus didn't stand out in the crowd. It was Cornelia she saw first. Thank the goddess, she was distracted talking to a man. Gruff and old, with shoulder length white hair and a well tailored suit. Lonato, Annette presumed. Her heart dropped. She knew she could trust Mercedes, but how was she supposed to know what Lonato would say? If only she could go and--</p><p>Thud.</p><p>Annette stumbled back a few steps. In front of her stood a boy, gray hair slicked back to one side of his head. Little speckles dotted his reddened cheeks. He wore a simple navy blue coat, no frills or fancy trim. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”</p><p>Annette brushed her skirt off despite a lack of dirt. “No, I should be sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and--”</p><p>“It’s ok,” the boy said. “You didn’t know.”</p><p>Even then, it was still her fault! Could she go one day without being clumsy?</p><p>The boy bowed. “My name is Ashe. It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss…”</p><p>“Annette! My name is Annette.” She curtsied. That’s what you did in return, right? Her mother never did get around to teaching her proper ball etiquette.</p><p>“Well then, nice to meet you, Annette!” When he grinned, little dimples appeared on his cheeks. "I’m just happy to see someone my own age around.”</p><p>Annette felt her heart flutter. Oh, this was silly! She’d just met him. People didn’t develop crushes that fast. She needed to get to know him better first.</p><p>“So, uh… nice… party?”</p><p>What kind of an ice breaker was that? She gave herself a mental facepalm.</p><p>Ashe chuckled. "Sure is."</p><p>The two of them stood there. Annette didn't know how to continue the conversation. She didn't even remember what she was on her way to do, if anything.</p><p>A waiter walked by with a tray full of peach sorbet.</p><p>"Excuse me, may I take one?" Ashe said, raising his hand. He turned to Annette. "Would you like one as well?"</p><p>Annette's mouth watered. "Of course."</p><p>It wasn't long before the two of them started up a conversation about sweets and treats, which then morphed into a conversation about cooking in general. As it turned out, the two had a lot in common. A mutual fear of ghosts, sweet tooth tendencies, a love of reading. Annette explained how busy she'd been with chores and how it prevented her from reading often. Ashe, in return, offered to lend her his favorite novel once her chores calmed down. She sighed. If only...</p><p>With each passing moment, the dancing spread closer and closer to the duo until they found themselves on the edge of the crowd. All the dancers were so elegant and perfect, sashaying across the tiles like ice skaters. </p><p>Annette's cheeks warmed. There was no way she could pull that off. Her heart called out for her to try. After all, Ashe was understanding, he'd understand if she fell.</p><p>He was also cute. Really cute.</p><p>As if on cue, Ashe extended his gloved hand. “May I have this dance?”</p><p>Annette’s heart jumped within her chest. It took all of her strength not to yell when she took his hand. He led her through the crowd, parting the sea of people so that she could move. Once they reached the dance floor, he placed his arm around her waist.</p><p>“I’ll be honest. I’m not that good of a dancer,” said Ashe. “But I hope you enjoy this regardless.”</p><p>Annette giggled. “I haven’t danced with a partner since I was little. I think we’re in the same boat.”</p><p>Their waltz was far from perfect. It felt more like stiff waddling than dancing with such a lack of experience. Annette stepped on Ashe's shoes and he stepped on hers in return. With every twirl, Annette stumbled into Ashe's arms. The two figured they looked like a pair of drunkards-- but where physical grace was lacking, joy filled the air. Laughs and giggles shooed away all the shame they had.</p><p>Annette thought back to her recurring dream. Ashe was not a prince, but he was kind and chivalrous just like the one she'd dreamt of many times. Something crawled at the back of her mind, a sense of belonging. She rested her head on Ashe's heart. His heart beat even faster than hers. </p><p>The song ended and the ballroom filled with applause. Annette removed her head off Ashe's chest. They were almost alone on their side of the dancefloor. The rest of the couples stood a fair distance to their right, giving them the evil eye. Had they been that clumsy? Annette didn't remember crashing into anyone, but she had been a bit embroiled in her own fantasy...</p><p>"Maybe we should, uh, go somewhere we won't bother anyone," said Ashe. </p><p>He extended his hand once more. After a small swing by the buffet table (and a very tasty serving of cinnamon buns), the two found themselves outside. The small balcony overlooked a garden, mostly withered and brown at this time of year. The slim crescent of the moon hung high in the sky, surrounded by a sea of stars. Chill air nipped at Annette’s skin. Ashe took notice of her shivering and unfastened his coat. <br/><br/>“For you,” he said, draping it over her shoulders. </p><p>Annette felt a tinge of doubt in her stomach. Did he like her, or was he just being polite? Did she even deserve this? She sat down upon an iron bench. The cold metal seeped through the tulle of her skirt. It was better than overheating inside, but not by much. </p><p>Ashe sat down besides her. “So, where are you from?”</p><p>Annette folded her hands in her lap. “Fhiridad. But then my father left, and my mother died, so I was sent to live with a…” She paused. This wasn’t the right time for that discussion. “...tutor.”</p><p>Ashe gave a faint smile. “You’re an orphan too?”</p><p>“Yes.” It wasn’t something to be proud of, but at least she wasn’t alone. </p><p>“Ah. I’m the oldest of three, so I had to take care of my younger siblings,” Ashe said. “I wasn’t making enough money, so I had to steal to survive.”</p><p>“How did you end up here, then?”<br/><br/>Ashe looked to the sky. “I broke into a house with the intention of stealing valuables. I ended up distracted by the library. The man who owned the house caught me, but instead of taking me to the guards, he took me and my siblings in.”</p><p>Annette’s eyes widened. Not many people would forgive a thief, much less take them in. Especially not if two young children were part of the deal.</p><p>“Turns out that was just his city residence. Most of the year he lives out here. I really picked the right time to rob him.” He chuckled. “Morbid, but true.”</p><p>“Hey, as long as you don’t steal things anymore, you’re good!” Annette said. Upon realizing how rude that was, her scalp froze over.</p><p>“Oh, of course I don’t,” Ashe said. “And don’t worry, I get that a lot.”</p><p>He could tell she was embarrassed. Great.</p><p>Ashe continued. “See, when I grow up-- which I guess is sooner rather than later-- I want to become a knight. I always read about them when I was little. My adoptive father is one as well. Someday, I’d like to help people like he helped me.”</p><p>“A knight…” Annette looked down at her hands. “My father was a knight.”</p><p>“Oh, he was? What was he like?”</p><p>She tried to think back to her childhood. The memories blurred as if they were a dream. Cedarwood carvings. A stiff yet warm embrace. Fhiridad in winter. A small tear formed in the corner of her eye. “He was kind and dutiful. Then he left and never came back.” </p><p>Ashe drew in a sharp breath. “Oh.”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>Annette tilted her head back up and looked Ashe in the eye. “Promise me you’ll try your best to return to those you love. Please.”</p><p>Ashe nodded. “I swear on my heart.”</p><p>The warmth returned to Annette’s heart. “Good. Now, maybe we should--”</p><p>
  <em> Ding.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ding.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ding.</em>
</p><p>“Excuse me one moment.” Annette’s nerves stood on end. So much for any small talk. What time was it? She stood and tiptoed over to the door. The clock was a bit far to see clearly, but it read--</p><p>Oh dear.</p><p>11:45.</p><p>A wave of sweat washed over Annette. "Oh, oh goddess, I'm sorry!" </p><p>"What? What is it?"</p><p>Annette glanced around. The only way off the balcony (aside from a long jump down) was the way she came. "I have to go. I promised I'd be home at midnight."</p><p>Ashe stood. "Well, if that's the case, I can escort you back--"</p><p>"No!" Annette snapped. </p><p>Ashe's face fell. Annette covered her mouth with her hand. "I mean, I'm sorry, I just…." </p><p>The words wouldn't come out.</p><p>Annette sprinted as fast as she could. How could she have done that? Yell at someone she'd just met, much less someone so nice and generous and cute. She could have made a friend, maybe more, but no. Here she was, racing against time, stumbling through the crowd of people like a thief at the market.</p><p>Worst of all, there was almost no way Cornelia couldn't see her doing it. </p><p>She was going to get the punishment of a lifetime.</p><p>Was the night worth the pain?</p><p>A wall of cold air slammed into her when she exited the manor. It felt like knives against her overheated skin. Emile waited for her at the foot of the stairs, the carriage door already open.</p><p>
  <em> So close.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> She was so--</em>
</p><p>Annette's shoe slipped against the marble step. She yelped as her body tumbled down the steps, one by one by one.</p><p>Behind her she heard Ashe's voice, shouting. She couldn't make out what he said while the world spun beneath her. With a surge of adrenaline she pushed herself up. Her legs stood uneven, one higher than the other. Turning her head, she caught a glint of moonlight reflecting off a slipper.</p><p>It was just a shoe. No one would care. </p><p>She didn't look back.</p><p>Emile didn't say a word as Annette hopped in the carriage. They sped away.</p><p>Before she knew it, everything was gone, replaced by the dark of night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fun bonus notes:<br/>-Bias and Pittacus are enemy Gremories who you fight at Shambahla. Since they have no character whatsoever, it's free real estate.<br/>-I named the cat Narcissus because Disney wasn't subtle when naming Lucifer.<br/>-After I initially wrote the opening scene, I wanted to incorporate Annette making lil hats and clothes for the mice she's saved, just like in the Disney movie, but I couldn't figure out how to work it in, so just pretend it's there. :P<br/>-Annette's song at the beginning was inspired by Pit's song in Kid Icarus Uprising. I think he sings it at the beginning of the Moon Base chapter.<br/>-The title of the fic is a bad pun, but you probably figured that out already.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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